Master Joe (carelessly). All right, Sir, I'll prove it fast enough.
Dr. T. I trust so, JOSEPH, I trust so, though "fast enough" is hardly the phrase I should have adopted, or—ahem!—recommended,—in the circumstances!
"Is there a word wants nobleness and grace,
Devoid of weight, nor worthy of high place?"
You know what our excellent HORACE bids you do in such a case.
Master Joe (aside). Bothersome old Blimber!
Mrs. S. Yes, JOSEPH, slanginess, carelessness and extravagance of speech will not befit your present position, you know.
Master Joe. (aside). Prosy old Pipchin!
Dr. T. You could not, JOSEPH, put before you a better model than the boy whose post you assume, in consequence of his going to the Upper School; young HARTY, I mean, a boy who was ever a pattern of propriety, and one absolutely to be depended upon to maintain the prestige of the school, and—ahem!—the authority of the Masters, in every contingency.
Mrs. S. In every contingency, JOSEPH. How unlike that talented, but untrustworthy, senior of his, and of yours, WILL GLADSTONE; a lad whose leadership you once acknowledged, but whose pernicious influence, I am happy to find, you have lately quite cast off.